


The 084 Problem

by SteelLily



Series: Project Crisalide [2]
Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Mutants, Blood, Deaths, F/F, Violence, World War II, mutant!Angie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:23:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelLily/pseuds/SteelLily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of 16, Angela Martinelli discovers that there is something very different about her when she accidentally kills a boy. Her parents, fearing for their daughter, send her off to an Italian facility that specializes in handling people with gifts such as Angie's.</p>
<p>Ten years later, Angie returns to the United States with a new mission: destroy the organization, SHIELD, before they have a chance to solidify. Can she complete her mission, or will Director Carter be the end of the 084 SHIELD calls Whirlwind?</p>
<p>Disclaimer: I don't own any of characters from the Marvel Universe and I make no claim to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> We're going on a perspective shift for a few chapters so I figured I would take a moment to break this up into a series to make it more manageable for, hopefully, all of us. 
> 
> To those of you who commented on this chapter when it was in the other document, I appreciate your comments and I'm sorry they are gone for the time being. Please feel free to repost them. I adore all of you who are following this work.
> 
> We've spent 7 chapters with Angie and her world, this one is going to follow Peggy into her world a little more.

_SHIELD office New York City, NY 1949_  
“I recall quite well what you said, Howard, I simply made the executive decision that we need to assess this threat more than I need a day off,” Peggy stalked through her office door then swung her coat and purse over the rack and thudded into her chair in one smooth motion.

“I’m not trying to be a nag, Peg,” Howard continued with his hands raised, “I just read Agent Smith’s report and from the sounds of it you really ought to get some rest.”

Peggy rolled her eyes, “I need to know what’s going on, Howard. Dottie has information and I’ll be damned if I’m not going to get it out of her today.”

“Fine, Carter,” Howard sighed. There was no graceful way to approach what he needed to say so he took a steadying breath, “You’re taking a break the second the interview with Dottie is over. That’s not a suggestion anymore.”

Peggy’s face contorted. Howard held up his hand and continued, “You walked into a situation where you were almost certain powered people were involved and lost over half your team.”

Peggy deflated and sank against her chair. Howard bulldozed on, “You need a break. Ever since,” Howard sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, “Ever since Steve vanished you’ve been running yourself ragged. Then with Leviathan and me, you ran on adrenaline for nearly a full year. Then I started SHIELD and…Peg everybody needs a break sometimes. You need a break,” Howard caught her gaze and pretended not to notice the tears welling up, “You’re not our Peg anymore. I want our Peg back.”

Peggy shook her head and wiped at her eyes. She looked out at the empty desks and agents piled around the room silently comforting one another. A rueful smile spread across her face, “You’re right, Howard.”

Howard’s face lit up and Peggy quickly continued, “Don’t let it go to your head. This time you’re right though. I’m not so arrogant that I can’t admit it.”

“Great!” Howard beamed, “I’ll send Jarvis down to the house to make sure you’re fully stocked with booze and food. Me and Phillips can handle this while you’re gone, Peg. The ship’ll be just fine ‘til you get back. Hey I got an idea, how about you make a friend. Huh? When’s the last time you had a friend that wasn’t also a co-worker, sworn mortal enemy or my butler?” he winked.

Peggy’s eyes narrowed, “I have friends. I am perfectly capable…”

“I was just teasing again, Peg. See you’ve even lost that sparkling sense of humour of yours.”

“God, but I hate when you’re right,” she sighed.

Howard broke out into a massive smile and waggled his eyebrows, “This telling me I’m right thing, you can keep that if you want. I’m okay with that.”

Peggy rolled her eyes again and wadded a piece of paper. She launched the paper at his mustache. He turned toward the glass door to dodge and it caught him on the ear. Peggy smiled. Dottie pushed through the front doors of the office at that moment. Howard turned toward Peggy, “The second the interview is done. No paperwork, no nothing. I’ll get Gabe and Daniel. They can take point on this and I’ll fill in the Colonel,” he added the lack in mock salute, “Get your stuff ready to go and we’ll meet in the briefing room in ten.”

Peggy sighed but nodded. She really hated when Howard was right in regards to her. He had that distinct ability, like she imagined a sibling would, to know when she was not quite herself. Once he realized that she would never become one in his parade of lovers, he had, thankfully, become a very dear friend. Peggy pulled out a notepad and began writing directions out for her absence. One note for Howard, one for Phillips and one for Daniel. She sighed at the thought of the tentative friendship she and Daniel had formed since their SSR days. She had gone from idealistic crush to traitor to, finally, respected colleague and now supervisor. The transitions were awkward and difficult but they seemed to have recently struck an accord. She trusted him to keep her informed without letting the others know.

Peggy pulled her purse off the rack and checked her make up in the mirror, reapplying lipstick. She laid the bag on her desk and placed her coat over top of it. The files strewn haphazardly across her desk, she quickly filed. She picked up her now folded notes and closed the door behind her. She placed Phillips’ note on his desk in his office next door. He typically took the midafternoon shift. She found Daniel in the common area, leaning against his desk, rubbing the place his new prosthetic met his thigh. “Still having problems?” Peggy asked.

“Nah, well nothing Mr. Stark said won’t pass in a few days. It just itches is all,” he replied with his casual smile.

Peggy smiled back at him and slid the note under his hand on his desk. He nodded and slipped it into his pocket. He and Peggy headed to the briefing room together, joining Howard, Dottie and Gabe already in the room. Gabe poured coffee into a mug and took a sip before sitting down across from Howard. Dottie raised her disinterested gaze from the table to Peggy’s face and clasped her hands together in front of her. Peggy tsked. Dottie had no intention of sharing more than what was directly asked of her. Peggy poured herself a cup of hot water and dropped a tea bag into it. She sat down next to Gabe. Daniel had chosen the spot next to Dottie. Peggy was fairly certain he had developed a crush on Dottie. The thought made her snicker. She had tried to kill everyone in the room except Gabe at one point or another. Daniel pulled a notepad toward him and clicked the pen he pulled from his shirt pocket. He was the self-appointed note taker.

Peggy dipped the tea bag in the water two times then wrapped it around her spoon to drain the fluid from the bag. She unraveled it and placed it next to the cup before sinking her spoon in the steaming liquid to stir. Peggy took a sip and replaced the cup. Dottie continued staring at her with a look of bored disdain. “Bit dramatic this morning, aren’t we, Director?” Dottie snarked.

Peggy looked at her then, “I’m sorry?”

Dottie’s brow furrowed and she leaned toward Howard, “You’re right, she does need a break.”

Peggy rolled her eyes as Howard’s chest puffed out, “I love when beautiful women tell me I’m right.”

Dottie sighed and crossed her legs at the knee then leaned back in the chair, “Whenever you’re ready, Director.”

Peggy cleared her throat, “Tell us about your encounter with these 084s.”

“Which one?” Dottie replied.

“There was more than one?” Gabe asked.

“Encounter? Yes. 084, as you call them? Yes. Which would you like to know about?” Dottie smiled innocently.

“Let’s start at the beginning. What do you know about Project Chrysalis?” Peggy clarified, a headache already forming behind her temples.

“Back even before the war, we had heard rumours about several secret training facilities in Italy for people who were ‘different.’ They collected children, just as Leviathan did. They trained them in combat. They forced them to fight one another so only the strongest survived. Frankly, we thought it was a similar Red Room Academy,” Dottie concluded.

“But it wasn’t?” Daniel asked.

“No.”

“Did Leviathan learn what it was?”

“They sent a couple of the children from my program to infiltrate. They were unable to do so. Weren’t even let in the front doors of the facility. They were, however, let into the offices to wait and stole several files,” Dottie paused.

Peggy motioned with her hand to continue when Dottie only stared at her. Dottie smirked. “Jesus,” Peggy whined, “And what did the files say?”

Dottie smiled, “They were cryptic, mentions of people with mind control abilities, elemental manipulation, strange things. The Air Force seemed to be the military branch in control of them…which frankly was laughable. Italy’s Air Force was and still is pathetic. Luck is the only thing that made them succeed at anything until the Americans came along and gave them better planes during the war.”

“So obviously this Chrysalis thing isn’t HYDRA,” Gabe observed.

“No, most certainly not,” Dottie replied.

“Why most certainly not? It could be a case of the left hand not knowing about the right,” Howard added.

“They attacked just as many HYDRA facilities as your beloved Captain America.”

Peggy leaned back in her chair and sipped her cooling tea. “So what was your first encounter with them?”

Dottie rubbed her lips together before speaking, “They were unaware of my presence, as were you,” she nodded at Gabe.

He knitted his brow and leaned forward, “When?”

“I was to meet with Schmidt when your golden boy broke each of you free.”

“Wait, you were at the facility? And so were these people?” Peggy clarified.

“Yes, I was at the facility. Yes, there were powered people there as well. Care to let me finish?” Dottie smiled severely.

Peggy nodded.

“Schmidt set the self-destruct buttons. I had come through to the control room, as I was entering, a quite attractive blonde woman was hovering over the controls. I stayed to the shadows outside the room, listening. The redhead who was with them ran out of the room, mumbling about killing Captain America. The blonde woman, as it turns out was an American…”

“Did you say an American?” Howard interrupted and looked around to see if anyone else was as stunned as he felt.

Peggy let loose a sigh, “Did you see her powers? Could she fly and make tornadoes?”

Dottie grinned and leaned forward, “Why, Madame Director, how on earth did you know?”

The men raised eyebrows at Peggy. She shrugged, “I thought you said you read the report already, Howard.”

“By read, you know I mean looked at the cover.”

Peggy bit her tongue to keep the annoyance at bay. “Please continue, Dottie.”

“The blonde ran after the redhead and caught up to her on the main floor. The redhead made a fireball appear in her hand. The blonde apparently put the fire out. They had a verbal altercation. The Captain and another man he seemed overly fond of were able to escape, largely because the blonde flew away with the redhead through the fires.”

Peggy’s eyebrows knitted, the blonde woman was becoming more and more of a curiosity. She wondered if perhaps she could be turned. “And the next encounter?”

Dottie sighed and sank into her chair at this, “It was 1945, I was sent to Minsk to clear out our facility and retrieve an operative. Three agents of this Crisalide, as they called themselves, were combing through the facility. I was on the third floor waiting for my opportunity to attack. They kept calling one another codenames,” Dottie sighed trying to remember, “I believe, Calcio, Bolide and Incantatrice.”

Peggy squinted, “Uhm, kick, Fireball and something about enchanting? I believe. My Italian is rusty anymore.”

“That sounds correct enough,” Dottie confirmed, “Their codenames, I assume, mirror their abilities. The one, Kick, sent shockwaves through his feet. The Fireball was the same redhead from before. The other one, she—well she is dead now. I dispersed the other two with ease. The third had some sort of mind control abilities. She was strong. If I wanted to survive, she had to die. So I killed her. Such a shame too, she was stunning,” Dottie hinted at Peggy.

Peggy rubbed her temples. “I think we encountered the other two last night. At least, it’s possible that it was them. It was definitely the blonde woman you mentioned. Someone shouted at her,” Peggy paused, eyes closed trying to remember, “Mulinello? Perhaps. It means Whirlwind, that sounds close enough to true. The word started with an M.”

“The two I encountered were very angry I killed their comrade,” Dottie replied with a shrug, “I would not be surprised if they were here to attempt some kind of vengeance.”

Daniel leaned forward, “We have to keep Dottie under surveillance at all times. They can’t be allowed to get near her.”

“Calm down, loverboy,” Dottie sighed, “What part of ‘I handled myself just fine’ did you not understand? I am not a kitten.”

Peggy could not help herself but chuckle at recalling a similar conversation. Daniel’s face reddened. “I would respond the same for any Agent that was in danger.”

“Yes, well, none of these other Agents, save Miss Carter here, are nearly as deadly as I am,” Dottie replied coldly.

“I’m sure it was in the report, but the Whirlwind woman was injured in the skirmish last night. We should check all the hospitals in the city for a blonde woman with a stab wound. Dottie, you’ll sit down with a sketch artist and see if you can’t come up with what these people looked like,” Peggy delegated.

“Director, it’s been over three years since I last saw any of them. I don’t remember any more than what I told you already,” Dottie tried.

“You’ll sit down nonetheless,” Peggy confirmed.

“Howard, contact Mr. Dugan, ask him if he remembers anything odd about the night Steve saved them. Gabe, you and Jim try to remember anything you can. If there are any other of your former…”

“Stop!” Howard shouted, “We got this Peg, get out of here.”

Peggy sighed and gritted her teeth. The muscles in her jaw worked angrily. “Fine,” she allowed after a few moments.

Peggy pushed away from the table reluctantly and took her purse and coat from the office. She wandered outside, pulling her coat up around her neck instinctively as the cold air hit her. Her stomach growled so she made her way to the L &L for a bite of breakfast. Peggy sighed, for what felt like the millionth time already that morning, as she sank into her normal booth. The diner was quiet and mostly empty. The morning rush had already cleared out and it was still too soon for the lunch crowd. She pulled a menu from between the condiments at the back of the table. A mug slipped onto the table in her periphery. “Coffee?”

Peggy nodded, “Please,” then placed the menu on the table and looked up.  
Angie smiled down at her. A light blush crept up her neck as Peggy smiled crookedly and looked away. “You know what ya want, English or are ya still lookin’?” Angie asked.

It was an innocent enough question but Peggy felt a pull from her center. She cleared her throat, “Uhm, yes. An omelet if it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” she grimaced inwardly.

Angie laughed lightly, “Course it ain’t too much trouble,” Angie shook her head as she walked away.

Peggy rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and mumbled, “Smooth one, Carter.”

Peggy sipped her coffee and watched Angie, from the corner of her eye, float around the diner. She noticed the revolving door spin to let in a patron. Peggy sat up straighter. Edwin Jarvis nodded imperceptibly and dropped himself into the booth behind her. “You are aware, Mr. Jarvis, that the cloak and dagger is no longer necessary?” Peggy smirked.

“Ah,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably and stood back up and moved to sit across from her, “Force of habit I suppose.”

The two chatted idly while Angie buzzed about them, wiping tables. When she finished, she took another mug from behind the counter and offered it to the Englishman across from Peggy. “Coffee?” she smiled.

The man nodded and thanked her. Angie felt Peggy’s eyes on the back of her head. “Anything else I can get ya?” she asked.

“I believe I will stay with the coffee for the moment,” he replied kindly.

Angie nodded and offered Peggy a smile over her shoulder as she walked away. She returned the coffee pot to its place at the machine. She lost herself in thought for a moment at the domestic matters she had overheard them talking about. The bell tinged that Peggy’s food was ready and Angie jumped at the noise. It tensed her shoulder and she grimaced, hand involuntarily going to the injury. She stopped her hand before she made contact and took the plate instead.

“I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, Mr. Jarvis. I’d appreciate it if you and Howard would remember that,” Peggy bemoaned.

“Yes, Miss Carter, we are both aware of your capabilities and also your shortcomings,” Jarvis smiled.

“I beg your pardon.”

Angie reached her hand around Peggy, closer than she needed to, in order to place the food in front of her. Peggy froze but quickly recovered. It was enough that Jarvis grinned and twisted to look closer at Angie. “I’m sorry, miss, but could I trouble you for some more coffee?” he smiled brightly at her.  
The sight made Angie’s teeth ache like an oversweet piece of chocolate. She smiled back, “Course,” and pushed away from the table.

Peggy stared at her plate intently. Jarvis leaned in, “Miss Carter, make friends.”

Peggy’s face reddened again and she cursed him under her breath, doing her best to shoot him an angry glare. Angie returned and filled Jarvis’ cup who smiled up at her the entire time. Angie’s eyebrows involuntarily knit together and she leaned back. She quickly turned her back to the man and filled Peggy’s cup. Peggy violently cut the egg on her plate and willed herself to ignore the blonde at her side. “Is, uh, everything okay?” Angie managed to get out through the cloud of awkward that had descended on the table.

“Yes, Angie, thank you,” Peggy said quickly.

A conspiratorial smile spread across Jarvis’ face while Peggy stabbed at her omelet. “I’m sorry, miss, but may I ask you a question?”  
Peggy’s eyes widened as she jabbed a large bite in her mouth. She schooled her expression as Angie turned again to look at the man. “Sure, ask away,” Angie shrugged.

“My friend here, has recently come into a few free days,” Jarvis smiled warmly at Angie.

Peggy continued glaring and began waving her hands to stop him. Angie turned back to look as the air disturbed around her. Peggy smiled and quickly pulled her coffee mug to her lips with a pained smile. Jarvis continued, “If she is not kept preoccupied, I fear she will return to work prematurely without the rest that is required of her job.”

“What kinda job is that, English?” Angie looked back over her shoulder again.

“Oh, uhm, phone company. Quite demanding,” she nodded.

Angie raised an eyebrow, “The phone company?” she laughed and leaned in to whisper, “The way Mr. Fancy here talks, you’d think you were a spy or somethin’.”

Peggy choked on her coffee. Angie instinctively reached to pat Peggy on the back. Jarvis snickered to himself as she righted her breathing. Angie’s hand lingered on Peggy’s back. Peggy took a steadying breath and forced a laugh, “Nothing quite so exciting,” she assured Angie.

Angie nodded and removed her hand from Peggy’s shoulder. Peggy immediately missed the warmth. Jarvis kept pushing forward, “I was wondering if you had some free time, if you wouldn’t mind terribly, oh I don’t know, to do something fun together.”

Angie looked between the two of them. Jarvis’ eyebrows were raised in anticipation. “Gee, I dunno…” Angie started.

“I’m sure Miss…” Peggy started.

“Martinelli,” Angie instinctively added then grimaced, _Shit._

Peggy smiled, “I’m sure Miss Martinelli is very busy and shouldn’t like to be disturbed.”

“Oh I don’t mind. We could go see a picture or somethin’, I mean if you want to,” Angie interjected.

A shy smile that made Angie’s heart skip overtook Peggy’s face. “I should like that.”

“I got a day off tomorrow, if that works for you,” Angie continued.

The world narrowed to the look on Peggy’s face as she nodded acquiescence. Warmth rose up in her stomach. It was a comfortable thing that settled on Angie’s skin. She had not felt that in…Angie cleared her throat and stood up straighter, steeling her face. “Meet me at the Griffith Hotel tomorrow evening. Say around 4?”

Peggy’s nose scrunched. “I’ll see you then, Miss Martinelli.”

Angie nodded and quickly turned. _Focus dammit_ , Angie sighed to herself. Peggy watched Angie disappear through the service door into the back. Jarvis smiled broadly. “You’re quite welcome, Miss Carter.”

“Quite satisfied with yourself aren’t you?” Peggy groaned, “I regret ever telling you about me, Mr. Jarvis.”

This simply made the man grin wider to which Peggy rolled her eyes.


	2. Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fudged with the release date of the film mentioned in this chapter. Please excuse that decision.
> 
> This was supposed to be all fluff but alas it didn't turn out that way.

_Griffith Hotel, New York City, NY 1949_

“Let’s go over this one more time,” Valentina started.

“I grew up in Brooklyn. I have no siblings but a load of cousins. My parents died when I was seventeen and I lived in their house for a while until I decided what I wanted to do with my life. That’s when I started pursuing acting and moved to Manhattan. I sold my parents’ old house and used the money to support myself. When that ran out, I got a job at the L &L and moved in here,” Angie sighed, “I can’t believe I blurted out my actual last name like that. What the hell was I thinking, Val?”

“You were thinking with that,” she nodded toward Angie’s crotch.

Angie shifted uncomfortably and wrapped her arms around her middle. “I wish I could argue but you’re right. Eyes on the mission. This is our chance to find out what SHIELD is up to and I didn’t have to do a thing to set it up. It just landed in our lap. What kind of progress are you making with your list?”

A wicked grin spread across Valentina’s face. “Two down, three to go on mine. The kids have one each and the twins managed to knock out five lackeys each.”

“Any information or were they just kills?” Angie pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Just kills,” Valentina sighed and held up a thin nearly sheer blouse for Angie.

Angie cleared her throat, “You don’t think that’s a little cheap? I don’t wanna look like a hooker.”

Valentina sighed, “Put a sweater over it if you’re worried. The dark blue brings out your eyes.”

Angie’s mouth opened and closed. “God, calm down Mulinello. I’m not in love with you anymore,” Valentina waved.

Angie rolled her eyes, “You were never in love with me. You’re in love with power.”

Valentina smiled, “Ah ha! There she has it. Now get dressed. It’s nearly 4, your mark will be here any minute.”

Angie nodded and disappeared into her bathroom.  
*********  
Peggy looked around the lobby of the Griffith Hotel. It was teeming with women filtering in and out. She absently twirled the small violet she brought with her between her fingers. A very stern looking woman behind the counter glared at her. Peggy smiled at the woman which only resulted in a further narrowing of her eyes at Peggy. Angie thankfully chose that moment to bounce down the stairs.

Angie looked stunning. Peggy swallowed hard. Peggy’s eyes wandered up the dark blue skirt Angie wore that matched her sweater and drew the blue out of her eyes, calling attention to the yellow starburst that surrounded her irises. Peggy felt herself smiling and saying hello but a fog fell around her at Angie’s appearance. She shook her head and asked, “What film shall we see?”

The pair turned and walked out of the Griffith side by side, each pulling open one of the giant curved double doors leading to the street. Angie smiled brightly, “Well if it’s all right with you, I thought we could go see Little Women?”

“Oh I do love that book,” Peggy agreed.

“I saw the one with Katherine Hepburn when I was a kid. I never got around to readin’ the book,” Angie shrugged.

“Oh well the book is quite good. I’ll be sure to let you know how it stacks up so long as you be sure to tell me how the other film compares to this one.”

“Sure thing, English,” Angie grinned.

Peggy’s heart sped at the frequency of smiles Angie showered on her. She jolted at the remembrance of the violet in her hand. “Here,” she said, extending the flower to Angie.

“What’s this for?” Angie smiled as she took it gently between her fingers.

“Oh nothing, just something I found along the way,” Peggy deflected awkwardly.

“Well thanks English, it’s very pretty,” she placed the blossom behind her ear and they continued walking.

Peggy’s brow furrowed. _All right, well that answers that question._ Peggy started to fall behind, Angie turned to her and grabbed her hand. “Come on English, we’re gonna be late.”

_I’m so confused._ Peggy sighed and increased her pace to keep up with Angie. They found seats in the theatre easily enough. Since it was a weekday evening, not many people were there. They settled into their seats, an overlarge bucket of popcorn sat between them, they held sodas in the opposite hands waiting for the theatre to darken and the film to start. Once the movie was rolling, Peggy could not help but steal glances at Angie. She leaned forward in her seat slightly, eyes roaming the screen, smile firmly in place. Peggy grinned and turned her attention back to the film. She reached for the popcorn and wound up brushing knuckles with Angie. “Sorry English, go ahead,” the younger woman smiled.

Peggy took a handful, grateful for the mostly dark room concealing the blush that she felt pink her cheeks. She shoved as much of the popcorn in her mouth as would fit and chewed ungracefully. She heard a snicker at her side and turned to Angie, “What?” she asked through a full mouth.

“You eat like you haven’t eaten in years, English.”

Peggy swallowed before responding, “Force of habit from the war.”

Angie nodded briefly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“It’s not a problem, Angie,” Peggy squeezed Angie’s hand that laid on her knee.

Angie shifted at the contact. Peggy started to pull away but Angie caught her wrist, “If you ever need to talk about it, English, I got good ears.”

Peggy huffed a laugh. “I may take you up on that Miss Martinelli.”

Angie nodded again and returned her attention to the screen.

As the lights came up in the theatre, Peggy glanced over at Angie who was discreetly trying to wipe tears away. “Beth gets me every time, sorry,” Angie cleared her throat.

“I think it’s sweet,” Peggy’s eyes widened, _Bloody Nora, Carter. Think before you speak_ , “I mean, it’s good to be in tune with your feelings,” Peggy grimaced _Smooth_.

Angie laughed, “Yeah. At least they saw it comin’ ya know. At least it wasn’t a surprise. That’s the worst.”

Peggy thought about Steve for the first time that evening. “I know precisely what you mean,” she smiled distantly.

Angie cleared her throat, “So uh, what’s next, English?”

“Oh I don’t know, would you care for a bite of dinner?” Peggy offered.

“Well since ya asked so politely, how could a girl refuse?” Angie winked.

Peggy tilted her head to the side and considered the growing Angie enigma. “How does Italian sound?” Peggy asked.

“Uh. You know, I really probably should get back home. The Griffith has some real strict curfew rules,” Angie’s breathing was becoming ragged.

“Angie, darling, are you all right?” Peggy put her hand on Angie’s shoulder.

“Bathroom, ‘scuse me.”

Angie walked quickly trying desperately not to run to the bathroom, leaving Peggy very confused standing in the theatre lobby.

Angie careened into the bathroom. Thankfully it was empty so she quickly locked the door and sank down to the ground. She took a deep breath and held it in her chest. It rattled shakily out of her lungs. She took another and repeated the process. Time, fortunately, had allowed her to reign her gifts enough that she could have a panic fit without generating tornadoes all around her or killing everyone in the vicinity. She steadied herself and rose back up to her feet. Angie squared her shoulders and splashed cold water on her face then returned to the lobby.

Peggy watched as people entered and exited the area, her eyes found Angie as she approached. Peggy smiled gently, “Are you all right?”

The worry etched onto Peggy’s face made Angie smile. “I’m fine. I’m sorry. I just got a little ill for a moment. I really should go home.”

“Absolutely, I’ll escort you,” Peggy offered.

“Sorry I’m such a terrible date, English.”

Peggy grinned and offered her arm, “Nonsense. I haven’t been out outside of work in too long. I quite enjoyed myself.”

Angie latched her arm around Peggy’s and they walked out of the theatre together. They moved quietly down the sidewalks arm in arm. Peggy finally cut into the silence, “If you ever need to talk about anything, Angie, I also have ears,” she infused her smile into her voice as best she could.

Angie bit her lip and looked at her feet as they walked. “I appreciate it, Peg. Thanks.”

Peggy smiled shyly and looked across the street. A shadowed figure caught Peggy’s attention. Peggy squinted in the direction of the movement. She pulled Angie’s arm closer to her and sped their pace. Her other hand dipped into her coat pocket where her revolver rested. She closed her fist around the butt of the gun. Next to her, Angie tensed. Peggy tried to stay calm so not to alarm the woman. Peggy felt a presence come into her personal space. She stopped mid step, pulled away from Angie and turned pointedly. “Dottie, Jesus,” Peggy sighed.

Dottie looked at Angie, a devilish grin spread across her mouth. She rolled her head back to Peggy and winked, “Not bad.”

Peggy flushed dark scarlet. Angie schooled her expression to one of confused indifference. “What is it Dottie? Why are you stalking around like a movie villain?” Peggy asked.

Angie’s eyes had narrowed to pinpricks. She felt the air shifting around her minutely. She took slow calming breaths and unclenched the fists that had balled on their own. Angie tasted blood in her mouth from biting her lip to maintain control. “We caught one,” Dottie eyed Angie suspiciously.

Angie stretched an uncomfortable grin across her face that she prayed read polite confusion. Peggy’s eyes widened and she leaned in close to whisper, “Chrysalis?”

Angie’s pulse raced. She looked away from Dottie’s searing blue eyes, “Yes. Howard sent me for you.”

“Okay,” Peggy nodded, “I’m sorry Angie, work calls, can I get you a cab?”

Angie shook her head violently, tossing curls all around her face. “I’ll be fine, English. Go on with your ‘friend,’” Angie nearly spat the last word, she could not stop herself.

Dottie offered Angie a dazzling smile, “I’m sorry to steal Peggy away from you dear,” Dottie wrapped her arm around Peggy’s and turned the woman away.

“I’m sorry Angie, I’ll see you soon,” she called over her shoulder as Dottie lead her away.

Angie relaxed slightly and cursed under her breath. “Who the hell got clumsy?” Angie bolted down the sidewalk back to the Griffith.

“You didn’t have to be so rude, Dottie,” Peggy chastised the woman.

“Oh please, your little cupcake will be just fine,” Dottie scoffed, “Besides, she looks a little too vanilla for you anyway.”

“If you don’t watch yourself, you’re going to give people the impression that you’re jealous,” Peggy taunted.

Dottie snorted and stopped at the vehicle waiting for them down the block just out of sight of the theatre. Peggy climbed in the back. Dottie motioned for the driver to go once she was in the front then turned back to Peggy, “There’s a change of clothes under my seat.”

Dottie turned back to the front when Peggy leaned down to pull the pile from under the seat. She slipped her heels off then slid the pants up underneath her skirt. She fastened the buttons of the pants then undid the skirt and pulled it off along with her slip. Dottie ran her tongue along her top canine tooth. The movement was meant to throw Peggy, she simply sighed and shook her head at the woman. Before long, the car arrived at the docks. Once Peggy exited the car, she tucked her blouse into the pants quickly as they walked toward a building. “Why did you not move the prisoner?” she asked.

Dottie rubbed the back of her neck, “You’ll see. We can’t get close enough. We barely managed to get Howard’s new tech to work on this kid.”

“Oh God, it’s a child?” Peggy questioned.

Dottie simply nodded and they walked down to where a small army of SHIELD officers were gathered.  
************  
Angie rushed up the stairs, taking three at a time. She burst into her room and banged on the wall next door that was Valentina’s room. Angie was already in the bathroom changing clothes when she heard her door click closed. She ripped the sweater and skirt off before busting back into her main room. “What the hell, Angie?” Valentina asked at the woman’s frantic state.

“They caught someone. SHIELD caught one of us. We gotta go. Was there a meeting I didn’t know about?” Angie growled as she threw clothing on and stripped clothing off.

“Merda,” Valentina cursed, “The kids are meeting the twins tonight,” with that she disappeared back to her own room.

Angie threw on her military boots and tied them as fast as her fingers allowed. Suddenly Valentina appeared in front of her again, boots on and ready to go. Angie stood up quickly and locked her door then ran to the other side and opened her window. She wrapped her arm around Valentina’s waist and burst out the window into the night.


	3. Decisions

_Warehouse at the Docks, NYC 1949_  
“Why is there ice on the door?” Peggy asked, “Was that us or the child?”

She walked up and placed her hand on the thin layer of ice that covered the door. Dottie hung back with the rest of the team and listened while they reported on the situation. Peggy walked the front of the building and looked down each side in turn. “Is there a back door?” she asked when she returned to Dottie’s side.

Dottie nodded, “We have eyes on the inside thanks to Agents Smith and Mills. They don’t have a shot. Apparently the kid fashioned some kind of ice cage around himself.”

“We’re not killing a child, Dottie,” Peggy scolded.

Dottie shrugged, “That’s what got one of your commandos killed three years ago. Besides this one looks older. He may be an adult for all we know.”

“We are not killing him. We need to disable him and question him,” Peggy asserted.

Dottie held her hands up in surrender, “Yes, Director.”

“Now, did Howard send along anything that can neutralize cold?” Peggy asked.

The men around her all shrugged. Peggy raised an eyebrow and motioned that they find something. The five men scattered to the armoured vehicles that they arrived in. The radio in Dottie’s hand crackled to life with screaming. “Incoming!” a man shouted then screamed.

A plume of smoke erupted through a high window in the building. Two men from the armoured vehicle finished putting on thick flame retardant suits and ran/waddled to the back of the building, guns in hand. Peggy grabbed the radio, “No kill shots if we can manage. We need at least one alive.”

“Boots!” a voice behind Peggy and Dottie shouted.

Two pairs of thick black magnetic boots flew toward Peggy and Dottie which they caught. They were lighter than they looked. They stripped their shoes off quickly and pulled on the boots, flicking a switch as they were secured. A low hum pulsed from the shoes. They were able to move mostly normally, if a little slower but they would not be blown about by stray wind. Another soldier jogged up behind the two women and handed them Stark handguns filled with knock-out bullets.

Over their shoulder, the armoured vehicle that still held two soldiers flew off the dock and into the water. The soldiers scrambled to the surface only to be shoved back below by an unseen weight. Peggy’s eyes scanned the sky looking for the assailant. A tornado appeared over the top of the trio. The soldier scrambled to his switch but did not make it before the wind threw him against the side of a ship. His body hit the metal with a sharp ding. Peggy and Dottie walked through the raging wind, hands covering their eyes and holding desperately onto their guns.

Angie sighed. She had been trying a trick for many years of manipulating elements in the air to alter her voice. She did not know what it was called but knew there was one that lowered her voice. She focused on that element and let the tornado fall away. “Nice boots,” her deep voice rumbled across the dock.

Peggy and Dottie squinted into the mostly darkness in the direction of the voice. Angie slipped lower at the roof of the warehouse holding Tommy. Angie wondered whether she could throw her voice as their eyes narrowed in her direction. She tried with her next statement, “Is there a reason you’re trying to murder a child?”

Peggy and Dottie’s eyes moved over toward the still standing armoured vehicle. Angie smiled at her success. Below her, a fireball broke through the massive wooden doors of the warehouse. She turned her eyes away to look in the direction of the fire. Peggy and Dottie used the distraction to turn off their boots and run toward the vehicle. A whirlwind shot up around Dottie. “Oh I don’t think so. Not you,” Angie continued, already deep voice lowering further.

Angie pulled every ounce of oxygen out of Dottie’s lungs. A wicked smile spread across her face, the world narrowed to the woman clawing at her throat. “This is for Antonia,” Angie mumbled loud enough to be heard.

Dottie’s eyes widened. A gunshot rang out. Angie shook her head. Valentina was screaming. Fire coursed from her palms behind her as Tommy fell to the ground in a limp heap. “No!” Angie screamed.

Another man consumed in fire screamed and fell to the ground. Angie erected a hurricane around Valentina and Tommy and floated next to them. She pressed her fingers to Tommy’s neck. “He’s gone,” she whispered.

Valentina screamed again. A hail of bullets smashed feebly into the hurricane. Angie wrapped her arms around Valentina’s waist and flew away hidden amidst a swirl of water and air. “We can’t leave him. We have to go back,” Valentina muttered and lightly punched at Angie.

The silence on the dock was eerie once the winds died down. The fires crackled and burned in the warehouse. Dottie gulped air, her hand still around her neck. Peggy walked past and turned the boy over to look at the wound. She smiled, “A knock-out bullet.”

She walked back into the warehouse to survey the damage, to see if any of her agents were still alive. Smith and Mills were still on the top floor, burned into their hiding places. The two soldiers in the “fire proof” suits were now charred beyond recognition. One though, she silently thanked for saving them, when she saw the gun still held in his hand. Two agents. Five soldiers lost. Tonight alone. This little group they were chasing was slowly killing off every SHIELD soldier and agent and Peggy was none too pleased. She slowly walked back out to the armoured vehicle. She opened the front door and picked up the radio. Dottie was still gasping but had now moved to restrain the unconscious boy. “We need a clean-up team at the docks. Call everyone into the office, wake them up if you have to. Just get them there. Yes that includes Howard and the Colonel,” Peggy’s voice was flat.

Dottie picked up the boy and placed him in the back of the vehicle. She shut the doors and climbed around to the driver’s seat. Peggy pulled herself up and into the passenger seat. They drove in silence to the secret entrance of the SHIELD offices. Peggy stared blankly out the window. They were met at the underground facility by three men carrying guns. Dottie put the car in park and instructed the men to put the boy in the furthest, most secure location. “Have the doctors look him over and for Christ’s sake, keep him sedated,” Peggy added with a slam of the car door.

“Yes, Director,” the men saluted her and moved off on their duties.

The haze of adrenaline and anger finally lifted from Peggy and she turned to Dottie, “Are you all right?”

Dottie nodded a little too quickly through narrowed eyes and a pinched smile. “Fine.”

“That seemed personal, did it not?” Peggy continued.

“Yeah. It did. I guess someone still isn’t too happy I killed that lady in Minsk,” Dottie finally responded honestly.

It was a rare thing to get an unguarded, honest response from Dottie. “Go get yourself checked out too, Dottie,” Peggy realized Dottie must be more injured than she appeared.

Dottie started to protest that she was fine, “You may be just fine but take a moment, take a shower then meet us in the conference room,” Peggy stated in her commanding officer voice.

Dottie nodded absently and wandered away toward the doctor. Peggy turned the opposite direction and made her way to the locker room to change into something less fancy. She pulled out olive green military pants and a stiff white button up shirt. Her hair was a mess from the wind whipping so violently around it. She grimaced at her reflection and pulled a headband over her hair. She was loathe to present herself in such a state but really they had more pressing matters.

Peggy reluctantly climbed the stairs leading to the conference room. The smell of fresh coffee percolating perked her up slightly. Gabe smiled at her and nodded toward the pots. “Oh bless you,” she moaned at the pot of hot water and tea bag sitting on a mug for her.

Peggy dunked the tea bag in the hot water and let it steep. She watched as Dottie opened the door mindlessly. She moved toward the coffee without acknowledging anyone except Peggy, to whom she muttered, “Working with you is making me weak.”

Peggy bit her lip and cautiously put her hand on Dottie’s shoulder, making sure the woman was watching the movement as she did so to not startle her. “You’re learning to feel again. There’s nothing weak about that.”

Dottie scoffed and took a long drink of the coffee then refilled her cup and entered the conference room. Peggy wrapped the string of the tea bag around the bag and a spoon and wrung out the juice. She tossed the bag in the trash bin next to the table and added only a touch of sugar before going to the conference room.

The last person to enter the overcrowded conference room, of course, was Howard. Peggy’s eyes narrowed at the state of him, disheveled and out of breathe. She assumed from engaging in a lady’s company. “Sorry guys. I was trying to come up with some kind of cold displacement system. I thought maybe my ‘get so hot it kills you’ vest with some tweaks but I don’t know. If we could get a look at their genetic make-up maybe we could figure out a way to neutralize the power all together…” he rambled.

Howard only rambled like that when he did not know how to fix a problem. Peggy sighed and offered him an apologetic smile for her faulty assumptions. He gave her a lopsided smile in return that looked more like a grimace than the expression he had hoped for. “We need to find a way to speak to this child without being killed in the process, Howard, I’ll leave that to you. Jim, Gabe, how do you two feel about a return trip to Italy? We need to find more information on this Crisalide thing. Colonel, can you please talk to the president and senator McCarthy and get them to see reason? The Italians are making a power play. They may not be behind the communism thing but they are up to something. I won’t lose any more agents,” Peggy prayed the defeat she felt was not showing through in her voice.

“Me and Gabe made a couple contacts in the Italian Air Force, maybe we can pump ‘em for some info,” Jim offered as Gabe nodded his agreement.

“Good, go as soon as possible,” Peggy sighed.

Colonel Phillips cleared his throat, “Gettin’ that fool president to listen to any reason is the work of a saint. You sure you don’t think Sousa’d be better equipped to reason with the man? McCarthy I can get through to, some well-placed threats do wonders.”

“The president knows you, Colonel. With your war record, you hold the best chance of getting through. Though if you think the sight of a wounded veteran might appeal to him, by all means take Sousa with you.”

“Hey, I’m not some pitiful puppy here,” Sousa whined.

“Are you questioning an order, young man?” Phillips asked.

“No sir, just take me along cause I can help, not because I’m a freak of nature,” Sousa defended himself.

Colonel Phillips smiled, “Yeah, he’ll be great.”

“Wait, what just happened?” Sousa mumbled to Dottie.

Dottie stared absently, nursing her coffee. “I’d like to be in charge of interrogation, Director,” she said without realizing she had spoken out loud.

Peggy regarded the woman for a long moment. “All right,” Peggy looked around the room and sighed, “Don’t get yourselves killed. We’ve lost at least 13 to these people. I don’t want to lose anymore. Dismissed.”

The room cleared out save Dottie and Peggy. Dottie stared holes into her coffee mug. Peggy sank tiredly into her chair and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Dottie cleared her throat. Peggy looked down at the woman at the other end of the table. “Yelena,” she said quietly, “My name was Yelena before they took even that from me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The element in question is Sulfur Hexafluoride.


	4. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Dottie.

_SHIELD Offices, New York City 1949_  
Dottie sat with her legs crossed at the knee on a chair in front of a glass wall. The boy within slowly shifted and ran his hand through his hair with a groan. “Are you all right?” the forced compassion felt thick and sticky on her tongue, she grimaced involuntarily.

The boy jerked up from the cot, his eyes darting like a wild animal. He bolted to the corner of the room and started leveling blasts of ice in Dottie’s direction. She groaned, “You’re simply going to exhaust yourself, child.”

He curled up in a ball in the corner and wrapped his arms around his knees. “What do you want from me?” he resigned.

“First we can start with your name,” Dottie uncrossed her legs and leaned forward letting her hands fall between her knees.  
He looked at her then, in her green pants and thick white men’s button up shirt. His nearly black eyes met her pale blue ones. He shifted uncomfortably, his mind raced back through his training. They had never prepared for the possibility of being captured therefore he had no guidelines to fall back on. His mind raced with _what would Mulinello do?_ He finally replied, “Frank.”

Dottie leaned back and assessed the boy. “Your trainers were obviously too arrogant to provide you with how to deal with capture. You are strong enough that, under normal circumstances, it should not happen. I’ve faced your kind before. What is your true name, child?” she tried for soothing but it came out harsher than she hoped, based on his recoil, “Please,” she added.

A puzzled look stole across his face before he wiped it away with disinterest. “What does it matter? You’re just going to kill me anyway, when I refuse to give you any information.”

Dottie cocked her head to the side, bird-like in the movement. Her eyes narrowed in a way that she knew sent grown men to cowering. Tommy studied his knees with full focus. The two of them were alone in the secluded basement; still Dottie looked around before easing herself onto the floor. She cast a glance at the camera in the corner overlooking the cell. She knew Peggy would be watching the progression of events, if for no other reason than to protect SHIELD’s investment. Dottie half snarled at the thought. Three years and that’s still all she was, an investment. Dottie crossed her legs in front of her and placed her hands on her lap. “How old were you when they took you?” she asked.

The boy looked at her then. His own eyes narrowed to survey Dottie. He had not been fully broken, it made Dottie smile. From the flinch she registered in his countenance, Dottie realized that maybe it wasn’t reassuring like she had hoped. Still, “Fifteen almost sixteen,” he replied.

Dottie nodded, “And your family? Did they allow this?”

Her expressions must have softened, she realized, when the boy mirrored her position on the floor. “They didn’t really have a choice,” he shrugged, “It’s just what’s done, they said. It was to protect me as much as them.”

Dottie snorted a derisive laugh. “Sorry, I’m projecting. I’m sure your parents did what they thought was right to keep you safe. Have you seen your family since they took you?”

Tommy leaned back on his hands and sighed, “No. I haven’t heard from ‘em since they sent me off with the goombas. Been too scared to try and find ‘em since I been back. Too busy too.”

Dottie leaned back on her hands as well. “How old are you now?”

“Eighteen, be nineteen in a few months,” he sat forward, blowing Dottie a kiss.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Not a chance kid. Nice try.”

He simply shrugged and sat up straight again. “You said you’ve ran into us before. When?”

Dottie wiped her hands together and ran them over her knees, a delaying tactic as she decided how much, if anything, to share. “During the war. I met several of your people. Two, possibly more, I believe to be here.”

“Who you think is here?” he snorted.

“Bolide, Calcio and Mulinello,” Dottie stated coolly.

The boy paled for just a moment. It was enough. Her suspicions were right at least in who was in New York. She had to press though, the evening’s choking seemed a bit…personal. “Are they here for me? To avenge Incantatrice?”

“You!” the boy shouted and rose to his feet. He began blasting ice at the glass over and over. Dottie, as calmly as she could, rose to her feet, adrenaline pumping through her body. She stared at the boy, who had so suddenly wrapped himself in rage. Vents in the ceiling of his cell hissed and a gas poured into the room. “She’ll kill you. I swear it. For Antonia,” he mumbled as he passed out again.

Dottie let out a breath in a puff as she heard the familiar clank of Peggy’s steps on the staircase. “Are you all right?” Peggy placed a hand on Dottie’s shoulder.

Dottie jerked away from the touch and rubbed her left hand idly over her right wrist and the scars that lingered there. “Fine,” the ice in her voice mirrored that on the glass.

Dottie turned and stomped out of the room, up the stairs and through the sewer exit. “I am not weak,” she growled to herself as she punched the concrete wall over the sewer.

Her knuckles came away bloody from the force. The fog that had fallen on her slowly started lifting with each pounding of her knuckles against the cold unyielding wall. Her vision came back into focus, sharp and clear, her ragged breathing steadied. The blood was a familiar, calming sight. She cradled her knuckles to her chest and breathed deeply, allowing a smile to settle on her lips. She returned to the building and set off to the locker room to address her wounds. Peggy watched Dottie move through the room with the calm veneer the Russian usually wore. Everything Dottie deemed vulnerable lost beneath a severe smile and bloody knuckles. “Two steps forward, one step back,” Peggy sighed.

Jim and Gabe chose that moment to sidle up next to Peggy and watch her watch Dottie disappear upstairs. “You think she’ll ever open up?” Gabe asked.

Peggy shook her head, “If that riddle could be solved, I fear the world might end. Now, you two on the other hand, I thank for being straight forward and dependable. You all set?”

“Yup,” Jim nodded, “Plane’ll take off soon as we hit the base.”

“Good. Be careful, both of you,” Peggy sighed and patted their cheeks.

“Yes mother,” Gabe winked.

“Go on you. Scoot,” Peggy laughed, “And get plenty of rest and eat your vegetables.”

Dottie hissed as the hot water rolled over her knuckles. The soap did not help matters. The wounds that already had started to close reopened at the insistence of her scrubbing. The water ran with rivulets of red down the drain. She watched, transfixed, until the door to the locker room whooshed open and closed. Dottie raised her eyes in the mirror, knowing full well who she would find staring at her over her shoulder. “Director,” she deadpanned.

Peggy folded her arms over her chest and rocked her weight onto one foot, “I need to know that you are in the right headspace to take on another task.”

Dottie looked back down to the sink. She turned the water off and blotted the towel lightly across the backs of her hands. The white gauze she intended to wrap around her knuckles sat next to the sink. Before she could reach for it, Peggy snapped it up and demanded her hands. “I am more than capable of completing whatever mission is required of me, Director,” Dottie replied sullenly

Peggy smeared antibiotic across her knuckles and wrapped one hand. Without having to ask, Dottie offered up the other hand. “I know you are physically capable, but I need to know that this isn’t hitting a nerve,” Peggy kept her eyes on Dottie’s hands.

Dottie rolled her eyes and sighed. “Whatever nerve this situation is hitting, is quite suppressible with the right means,” Dottie ran her fingers along Peggy’s wrist.

Peggy tisked and pulled back. “You only flirt when you’re out of sorts. Stop it. This kid reminds you of your situation back in the Red Room. It’s struck a nerve, obviously,” Peggy tapped the back of the hand she still held causing Dottie to grimace, “You don’t have to talk to me about it but you should speak with someone. You deserve support, Yelena.”

Dottie sneered, “A moment of weakness in sharing my name with you, I assume it will be exploited at every turn.”

“No, I know how much it means that you trusted me with this. There is no weakness in feeling something about the traumas you experienced. Who knows what horrors these kids were subjected to…I suspect nothing like you experienced but the similarities are there. Perhaps instead of taking it out on your body, you could try speaking with someone about it instead.”

Dottie raised an eyebrow and started to respond. “No flirting. Go home. Get rest. I’ve a task for you tomorrow. Please consider opening up to someone about all this,” Peggy replied.

Peggy turned and walked back out of the locker room before Dottie could respond to anything. Dottie rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and bit the inside of her cheek. She rocked on her heels and moved to change into clothes a woman should be seen in public in. Her apartment was three blocks down from the office. It was a nice first floor room with a private bathroom and a small kitchenette. She locked the door behind her and tossed her keys onto the table and turned on a lamp. Her shoes, she kicked off and placed in front of the door as a sort of early warning system if someone tried to break in. She slipped her floral dress off her shoulders and draped it over her arm. 

From her dresser, she took out her red and white striped pajama set and slipped them on after hanging her dress in the closet. She braided her hair in pigtails and tied them with ribbons then splashed water on her face and padded softly to her bed. She turned on the lamp on the table next to her bed then did a final check of the apartment’s security before slipping under the covers. Dottie reached her hand beneath her pillow and pulled out the cold steel handcuffs and key. The key she placed in her left pants pocket, one end of the handcuffs, she attached to the bedpost. She lay down and snuggled into the covers before raising her right arm over her head and locking the other cuff around her wrist. She reached across her body to turn off the light and sank into a deep sleep.

The scream that woke her four hours later was her own. She gasped as she fumbled for the key in her pocket, cursing under her breath as she struggled to get it into the lock. When she was finally free, she pulled her knees into her chest and rocked herself. The nightmares started not long after SHIELD captured her. Always variations on the same theme: her mind created endlessly creative scenarios in which her adult self murdered her child self. This particular instance had been a drowning. She pulled her sleeve over her fist and wiped the sweat off her face. Dottie hated this feeling of helplessness. She turned her lamp back on and looked at the clock on her table. It was nearly time to get up anyway so Dottie folded the handcuffs and returned them under her pillow, along with the key and made her bed.

The sun had started peeking in through the windows when she straightened her sweater over her chest and ran a hand over her neatly pinned hair. She checked the clock once more. She did not need to be in for a couple of hours but, quite unsure what to do with herself, she decided to leave anyway. With her purse tucked under her arm, she set out toward the office. The morning was a crisp one. The smell of frost and motor oil comingled on the air. She ran her hands up and down her arms to generate warmth. She ducked into the L&L and sighed at the warmth in the diner. She grabbed a newspaper from a table and tucked herself into a booth. The paper was yesterday’s, she noticed with a frown and so she folded it up and smiled at the waitress who sat a coffee mug in front of her. “Coffee?” the voice said.

“Mmm, yes please,” Dottie replied with a smile, “Oh, careful,” she reached out a hand as the pot nearly tumbled out of the waitress’ hand.

“Sorry,” Angie cleared her throat and quickly turned away, breaking out into a sprint back around behind the counter. She dropped the pot unceremoniously on the warmer and disappeared into the kitchen.

Angie counted slowly to ten and calmed her breathing. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.


	5. Black Widow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last Dottie chapter before we switch back to mostly Peggy.

Dottie’s eyebrows crinkled at the bizarre behaviour. She did not have long to give it much thought though as Peggy flopped onto the booth seat across from her. Dottie rolled her eyes up at the woman and sighed, “Good morning, director.”

“Good morning, Dottie. I didn’t know you came here,” she replied with a gentle smile.

“I don’t usually,” Dottie assured the woman.

She picked up her coffee mug and took a drink. To quell the conversation, she picked up the newspaper again and resumed reading. Peggy groaned and surveyed the diner for a waitress. Angie shook her arms and shoulders, steadying herself. The absolute last thing she needed to do was attack someone in public so she shook the tension out of her hands and wiped tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. The swoosh of the revolving door as it allowed a third customer in prompted Angie out of the kitchen with the coffeepot and a smile. Her eyes widened at Valentina who sat down at the bar. Angie grabbed a mug and rushed toward her. “Back corner,” she whispered.

Valentina smiled and thanked her for the coffee. She ran a hand over her tightly pinned curls, picked up the mug and glanced over her shoulder. Dottie was staring with exasperation at Peggy. Angie hissed at Valentina who whipped back at Angie with barely concealed rage. Angie glared down at the mug which was bubbling. “If I can get it under fucking control, so can you,” she chastised.

“You could just choke her out from here. I’ve seen you do it,” Valentina urged.

Angie’s fist clenched around the handle of the coffeepot and she inhaled deeply, “I’d rather she knew exactly why she’s dying and that I’m the one that’s done it.”

Peggy turned around toward Angie, the smile that lit her features made Angie’s fury falter slightly. Valentina clicked her tongue at Angie, “Don’t go falling for the enemy, Angela.”

Angie looked back at Valentina whose eyes narrowed in unspoken threat. Angie shook her head, “Don’t threaten me, Val. Keep up your end of the mission and I’ll keep mine,” Angie pushed away from the counter, retrieved a mug and muttered as she passed by Valentina, “I make a better friend than an enemy.”

Angie smiled broadly as she sauntered up to the booth holding Peggy and Dottie. Valentina grimaced and suppressed a growl. She took a sip of the coffee before gathering her purse and exiting the building. “Good morning, Angie,” Peggy chirped to which Dottie snorted behind the paper.

“Mornin’, English. Glad you’re in one piece,” Angie sang.

She leaned over the table more than needed to pour Peggy’s coffee, Peggy’s face flushed at the proximity. Angie simply smiled broadly, purposefully ignoring Dottie’s stare. She was not doing anything improper, Angie hoped the response she read from the reserved Englishwoman was that of attraction. Angie slowly turned her eyes away from Peggy and questioned Dottie, “Refill?”

Dottie smirked at Angie, “If it’s not too much trouble,” she looked down at the nametag, “Angie,” the way her name fell from Dottie’s lips made bile rise in Angie’s stomach.

Her jaws clenched beneath the smile and she poured the scalding liquid into the mug. Dottie thanked her and pulled a piece of bread from her roll, offering some to Peggy who shook her head. Dottie shrugged and took a bite, returning her attention to the paper now lying on the table. “I’m terribly sorry I had to leave in such a rush,” Peggy’s voice broke Angie’s thought process.

“Oh no problem, English, I hope everything worked out okay,” Angie leaned back against the booth, her hip dangerously close to Peggy’s elbow.

Peggy froze at the closeness then reached away from Angie’s body for her coffee mug. “Yes, just fine. Better than actually.”

Dottie glared at Peggy who scowled at the revelation. Angie smiled placidly, “So how do you two know each other?”

“We work together,” Dottie volunteered before Peggy could make any more revealing commentary.

“Quite right,” Peggy agreed.

“Phone company make it a practice to just hire pretty ladies even though can’t nobody see you guys?” Angie prodded.

Dottie grinned widely and took a moment to survey Angie’s body. Peggy’s face flared brightly just a moment too slow. Dottie leaned toward Angie, “Perhaps we should see about the bosses hiring you. What do you think, Peg?”

Peggy cleared her throat and pulled an overlarge piece of bread off Dottie’s roll and shoved it in her mouth, nodding awkwardly all the while. Angie faltered under Dottie’s gaze and took a repulsed step back. Dottie cocked her head to the side and watched Angie through narrowed eyes. _Fuck_ , Angie thought to herself. “Oh pfft,” she waved away, “I ain’t nothin’ compared to you gals. Both of you could be on the stage no problem.”

Angie smiled and backpedalled toward the kitchen area. Peggy was too busy glaring at Dottie to have paid much attention to Angie’s awkward retreat. Dottie turned thoughtful eyes toward Peggy now, “How much do you know about that one?” she queried.

“Angie?” Peggy could not keep confusion from her voice.

Dottie nodded, “The way she recoiled just now,” Dottie leaned forward, still staring where Angie disappeared, “Did you not see that?”

Peggy’s eyebrow jutted up at Dottie. “Perhaps it’s because she’s not interested in your advances. Not everyone wants to sleep with you, Dottie.”

At that Dottie snickered, “That’s just not true, director. Do you know her last name?”

Peggy looked back toward Angie who now floated around the diner wiping tables and taking orders from the morning rush crowd. “Martinelli, she said,” Peggy replied.

“When did she start working here?” Dottie continued.

“A couple months ago, I suppose, why?” Peggy remained oblivious.

Dottie bit the inside of her cheek and scooted out of the booth. “I’ll see you in the office, director,” she replied and pulled her coat on.

The sun was higher in the sky now and the streets filled with people scurrying off to their jobs. Dottie pulled the collar of her jacket up to block out the last of the morning chill. _Surely it can’t be her._ She walked briskly along the sidewalk down the block to the “phone company’s” office building. She exhaled as she pulled open the front door, _That damn diner is just a block from us, I’d use it to spy. Shit._ “Is Howard in yet, Rose?” Dottie asked.

“Not yet, Dot. I’d be surprised if he’s even been to bed,” Rose chirped from her seat at the operator’s booth.

Dottie nodded, “Okay, can you give him a call and let him know I need to talk to him as soon as possible?”

Rose groaned, “Yup, Dot. Peg should be in soon, you sure you’d not rather talk to her?”

“Positive. I need him or Colonel Phillips,” Dottie confirmed.

“Mr. Stark it is,” Rose affirmed and dialed Howard’s number.

Dottie marched into the front office in search of anyone she could order into action. The honour fell to a new recruit, fresh out of juvenile detention, one of Dottie’s. “Michael, come here please. I have a job for you.”

The still teenager jumped at Dottie’s voice. She rolled her eyes at the bravado he tried painting on his face. “What’s cookin’, doll?”

Dottie sucked her tongue through her teeth in a show of annoyance. The boy straightened, “Sorry Agent Underwood.”

Dottie nodded at the apology, “I need you to do some digging about any Martinellis in the city. See what you can find out about any with a daughter in her early twenties. Dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, name of Angela. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am. There’s some Martinellis out in East Harlem I think. Few years ago, one of ‘em got hit by a car after knockin’ off a bank,” Michael scratched his head.

“Start there then. I want a report back by the end of the day and don’t tell anyone you’re doing this. Report back directly to myself or Mr. Stark.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the boy nodded and bounced out through the front doors.

Rose caught the door after him and searched for Dottie who had turned for another cup of coffee. “Dot?” Rose began, “Mr. Stark’ll be in in an hour.”

“Thank you, Rose,” Dottie smiled and stirred sugar into her drink.

“Mornin’, boss,” Rose brightened.

“How are you this morning, Rose?” Peggy smiled.

“Just dandy, Peg. Thanks for askin’,” Peggy patted Rose’s shoulder and entered the main office doors.

Dottie sipped her coffee and reclined against the long table holding the beverages. “I want another crack at that ‘Frank’ kid,” she said when Peggy picked up a mug next to her.

“Any particular reason or just because you’re a glutton for punishment?” Peggy asked as she poured hot water.

“I can get the truth out of him. They didn’t take the time to totally break him,” she shrugged.

“What makes you think he would even speak to you at all? He did make a grand attempt at breaking out of the cell just to kill you.”

“I inspire that kind of reaction from people. It’s part of my charm,” Dottie joked.

“Be serious, please, Dottie,” Peggy pleaded as she dunked a tea bag into her cup.

“Just trust me. I can get him to open up so long as no one intervenes,” Dottie retorted.

Peggy raised an eyebrow. Dottie ticked, “I’m not planning on torturing him, director.”

“All right,” Peggy conceded, “But I’ll be monitoring and if I think you’re at risk, I’m pulling you out.”

“Don’t worry. Your investment is safe,” Dottie spat.

“Why do you always do that?” Peggy accused, “Anytime one of us expresses concern over your wellbeing you belittle the sentiment.”

Dottie rolled her eyes, “I know my worth. Am I dismissed?”

Peggy grumbled, “Yes. Fine. Go on. I’ll be watching in the booth.”

Dottie nodded and left her half empty mug on the counter. She made her way to the locker room and changed into trousers, boots and a men’s button up shirt. Her hair, she affixed tightly in a bun at the back of her head. She stared blankly at her reflection, _You are a weapon. You are poison. A deadly spider that creeps into bed at night leaving death in your wake._ Her already cold eyes emptied. She drained everything that made her a person and let the weapon filter in. Her lips thinned to a nearly invisible line across her chin, she turned and walked back out of the locker room and descended the steps to the basement. Tommy sat on his cot, eyes constantly moving, watching agents and soldiers filter through the room. She recognized the action. He jumped when he heard her voice, “There are five exits in this room. Each leads to several armed guards. You’d be shot down, even with your powers, before you could make it to any of them.”

His eyes narrowed at her, “How’d you know what I was doin’?”

“Because it’s one of the first things I would’ve done,” she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

He recoiled instinctively. Dottie grinned which made the boy slink further away. “What do you want?” he demanded.

She gave him points for his voice not wavering under her scrutiny. “Tell me your name,” she stated.

He stared at her. “I told you already. It’s Frank.”

“That isn’t your name. Nor is it your codename. Let’s cut the pretense. It’ll be much easier if you just tell me what I want to know,” Dottie pulled over and chair and sat down in front of him, legs crossed at the knee.

“Dunno what you’re talking about, sweetcheeks. Told ya, my name is Frank.”

Dottie stared at Tommy. He fought for a minute before finally squirming and looking away. “You are a weapon, as I am a weapon. All weapons have a name. What is your name?” she revised.

“Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” he smiled at his double entendre.

Dottie sneered, “Chernaya Vdova. Black Widow.”

He glared at her through narrowed eyes then finally, “Grandinare. Hail.”

“Quite literal, your masters, no?” she asked.

This earned a snort of laughter, “Yeah.”

“What happens if more than one person has the same power?” Dottie asked.

He shrugged, “The names aren’t repeated that I know of. I imagine somebody else like me would be named ‘Ice’ or ‘Snow’ or somethin’ like that.”

Dottie nodded, “I suppose that makes sense to simply be able to call out what attack you want rather than deal with learning the names of the people. My name merely exists to frighten people.”

“Like the spider?” he asked.

Dottie nodded, “Beautiful but deadly.”

He smiled then ventured, “What’s your real name?”

“Dottie,” she responded quickly.

“Nope, see, that’s about as real as Frank. Here I thought we were having a moment,” he teased.

“My name means little to me anymore,” Dottie shrugged.

“Then what’s the harm in sharing it?”

“It’s the last thing that still belongs to me.”

He nodded slowly, “I get that. How old were you when they took you?”

Dottie smiled, “You’re a quick study, Grandinare. I was much younger than you were when they took you,” she rubbed her wrist absently.

Tommy watched her. Dottie tugged at the sleeve of her shirt and straightened, “How many of you are here?”

“Six countin’ me.”

Dottie nodded, “You know, we are only as corrupt as those who wield us. I’ve done a great many terrible things in my life at the bidding of those who’ve owned me. You’re still young enough that you probably don’t have many unforgivable sins on your head. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your friend,” Dottie whispered the last as she rose from the chair, “Your breakfast should be here any moment. I’ll be by later to check up on you.”

Tommy stared at her as she got up. “It ain’t me ya gotta worry about, Spidey. It’s Mulinello,” he called as she left.

“If I ever meet her, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said and ascended the stairs.


	6. Famiglia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third and final installation of this story will follow soon.

_New York City, East Harlem, 1949_

“Mikey! Long time no see,” a smiling young boy greeted him as Michael entered Marco’s Cuchina.

“Angelo, what’s happenin’, kiddo?” Michael nodded.

Angelo shook his shaggy light brown hair and shrugged a shoulder, “Nothin’. Papa’s got me workin’ all hours every day. You lookin’ for Max?”

“Nah,” Michael shrugged in reply, “I just got outta juvie a couple months ago and I been down in Manhattan. Met a dame claims to be a Martinelli workin’ at a diner. Made me remember how good your granddad’s place is. Figured I’d stop by.”

Angelo nodded thoughfully, “A Martinelli in Manhattan? Fancy. We don’t usually get below 95th. Hey, papa!”

A large man with salt and peppery gray hair and a thick mostly white mustache lumbered out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron, “What’re ya interruptin’ me for, eh?”

“Mikey just popped by, says there’s a Martinelli down in Manhattan. We got any family down there?” Angelo squinted his blue eyes at his grandfather.

“Martinellis don’t get down past 95th. Come si chiama lei? What’s her name, eh?”

“Goes by Angie. Real looker too. Probably about 25. Got hair and eyes just like Angel. You sure she ain’t related. She could be your much cuter cousin or somethin’,”   
Michael teased Angelo and mussed his hair but kept an eye on Marco’s response.

Marco cleared his throat, his mustache twitched slightly, and his dark eyes narrowed, “It’s just us, piccino. Bring your friend a plate, nipote. Don’t be rude,” Marco beckoned Angelo to follow him into the kitchen.

“Thanks, Mr. Martinelli,” Michael called after them and plopped into a booth near the kitchen door.

He strained to hear Marco speak to Angelo in Italian. While Michael had spent the better part of six years around the Martinelli’s extended family, he never picked up more than a few words here and there of the language. Before he could commit some of the words he heard to his memory, Angelo pushed through the door with a giant plate of spaghetti in his hands and sat it down in front of Michael before plopping onto the bench across from him. “So tell me about this broad, Mikey. Papa told me to let it go, but I wanna know. Where’s she work?” he leaned in and whispered.

Michael wiped his mouth on a napkin and swallowed the bite he took. “She works down at the L & L on 70th. I was peepin’ the broads at this ladies hotel a few blocks away. Went in to try and scam a lunch outta ‘em. She fell for my sob story hook, line and sinker. Pulled the nickel for a sandwich right outta her own pocket.”

Michael heard a deep chuckle from over his shoulder. He turned to see Marco leaning against the door to the kitchen. He shook his head, and half-heartedly chastised Angelo for pressing the subject. Angelo hung his head and removed himself to the kitchen. Michael finished the plate of food and left a quarter on the table. He pushed open the door and yelled, “Thanks again, Mr. Martinelli,” then walked out.

Michael strolled down three blocks and around the corner where a car waited for him. He looked over his shoulders and hopped in. “You owe me a quarter,” he snarked at Dottie.

Dottie’s eyes narrowed. Michael shook his head and sighed as the driver pulled away, “Marco acted a little sketchy when I mentioned her name was Angie. Then Angelo came out asking about where to find her. I’ve known the family a little for a few years. They’ll go check up on this Angie dame, if for no other reason than curiosity. Prob’ly send a cousin out tonight but Marco’ll prob’ly drop in tomorrow morning. I’d put money on it.”

“You make them sound like they’re connected to the mafia,” Dottie prodded.

Michael shrugged and changed the subject, “Got another assignment for me or am I done for the day?”

“Keep an eye out at the diner. See if anyone drops by but stay out of sight. Contact us if someone shows up. Nice work,” Dottie replied distantly.

Marco closed the restaurant early and rushed to his youngest son’s house. He stood on the stoop, pounding on the door. The sun was low on the horizon, casting a long shadow across the porch. “Pop?” Gino asked, shielding his eyes.

“Angie’s alive and back in New York,” he whispered loudly.

Gino’s jaw fell and he grabbed his father’s shoulder and shoved him into the house. Gino glanced up and down the street then slammed the door. “Maria, come here please. Angelo, go get ready for bed,” Gino lead Marco through the living room to the kitchen amongst protests from Angelo.

“Rapidamente, figlio, muovilo. Move it,” Gino commanded.

Angelo made a show of huffing and puffing his way up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door, the bedroom that previously belonged to Angie.

Gino waited a moment longer before engaging his father. Maria sat at the kitchen table, holding her apron in her hands. “Tell us everything,” Gino demanded.

Marco told the story about Michael’s visit to the restaurant. Maria quietly dabbed a tear from her cheek. Gino squeezed her hand. Marco continued, “I sent Vic down to the diner to see if it was her. He said she wasn’t workin’ but one of the other girls said she’d be in tomorrow morning around eight.”

“Pop,” Gino started, “They warned us not to try and find her.”

“They never said they’d drop her right under our noses!” Marco started to shout then quickly dropped to a whisper, “They had to expect we’d go lookin’ for her if she showed up in our own city. I don’t give a,” he took a deep breath and continued calmly, “My granddaughter, who was taken from us, is back in the city and I am going to see her, with or without you.”

Angelo leaned back on his heels and let out a low whistle. Marco pushed away from the table and headed back out toward the living room. Angelo leaned back against the stair railing. Marco looked up at him. “I have a sister?” he whispered.

Marco nodded solemnly, “Wanna meet her?”

Angelo nodded slowly. Marco grinned conspiratorially, “Meet me at the shop at 7. We’ll go together.”

In the kitchen, Angelo heard his mother crying. She kept repeating, “Mia figlia,” over and over while Gino stroked her hair and held her head to his chest.

Angelo quietly tiptoed back up the stairs. He did not sleep much in the night. He had too many questions he was not all together certain his grandfather would be willing to answer. He got to the restaurant, which was close to the train station, at fifteen to seven. Marco opened the back door to let him in. His mustache was trimmed and his hair slicked back with gel. Angelo thought he looked like he was going to church. “This some kinda fancy place, Papa?” Angelo asked, suddenly self-conscious of his plain clothes.

Marco shook his head and swiped a fist at his eyes, “No. I just haven’t seen mia bella in eleven years.”

“Before I was born?” he asked.

Marco nodded, “They took her away and said we’d never see her again. Told us to pretend she never existed.”

“Who’s they, Papa?” Angelo asked.

“Some hush hush people from the homeland. Something bad happened with your sister. They came in and cleaned it up and took her away,” he replied as he applied gel to Angelo’s mess of wavy hair.

“Sounds like the mob,” Angelo replied.

“Not far off, piccino,” Marco nodded his approval at Angelo’s hair, “Ready to go?”

Angelo nodded and the pair slipped out of the restaurant. It was a fairly short train ride down to Manhattan. They slipped through the crowd, Angelo reluctantly held onto Marco’s hand. They stopped in front of the L & L. Angelo looked in the packed diner. He could not see much more than suits along the back wall and the backs of waitresses pouring coffee. Marco cleared his throat and pushed through the rotating door. He found an inconspicuous table in the corner and pulled a menu in front of his face. Angelo sat down across from him, his back toward the counter. Marco occasionally looked over the top of the menu around the bustling restaurant. “Can I get you some coffee, mister?” a thin woman with black hair asked Marco.

Marco nodded, “Si and some milk for the boy, please,” he responded nervously.

Angelo sighed and watched people trickle in and out of the door. Thirty minutes, three cups of coffee and a half eaten plate of powdered eggs later and the diner was largely empty. The three waitresses counted their tips while they left information with the cook for the next shift. Marco anxiously watched the clock over the kitchen. The door swooshed open and he whirled so quickly he nearly knocked his mug off the table. It was not Angie. Dottie waved to the waitresses and made her way to a booth. She made note of Marco and the little boy that looked incredibly like Angie. A few moments later, Peggy marched into the diner. Dottie watched little Angelo stare wide eyed at the woman as she made her way to Dottie’s booth. “Good morning, Dottie,” Peggy smiled.

Dottie returned the smile tightly, still watching over Peggy’s shoulder at the table with Marco and Angelo. “Yeah, I’ll see ya tonight, Gloria. Save me a seat for dinner,” Angie sang as she tied her apron around her waist and picked up the coffee pot and floated to the tables to refill drinks. She caught Peggy’s eye and her face lit up. Angie turned back to the counter and picked up two mugs and took them to the booth where Peggy and Dottie sat. “Good morning ladies,” Angie sang.

“Good morning, Angie,” Peggy smiled and subconsciously leaned nearer to Angie where she stood beside her.

“Good morning, Miss Martinelli,” Dottie said, louder than necessary.

She watched Marco and Angelo lean up and look in her direction. Angie had her back to their table and continued, speaking to Dottie and Peggy, oblivious.

“What can I get ya this mornin’? I’m told the eggs are especially terrible today,” she winked.

“I’m fine with coffee for now, thank you,” Dottie smiled, looking over Angie’s shoulder.

“I think I shall have some of those spectacularly awful eggs, please,” Peggy grinned.

“No problem, English. Sure I can’t get you somethin’ else too, Dot?”

“I’m perfect, thank you, Angie. It seems you’ve some admirers at that table over there. They’ve not stopped staring at you since you came in,” Dottie nodded in the direction of the table.

Angie rolled her eyes and sighed, prepared to make a snarky remark about not being a piece of meat. When she turned, her breath caught, “Papa?” she whispered.

The coffee pot shattering on the floor and hot liquid burning through her nylons brought her back to reality.


End file.
